


Presumption

by Arianne



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Domceptor, M/M, Mild D/s, Mild Humiliation, Mild Painplay, No spikes, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Scissoring, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/pseuds/Arianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(noun) behavior perceived as arrogant, disrespectful, and transgressing the limits of what is permitted or appropriate.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Put that away,” Perceptor said when he heard the scrape of what a quick glance down the table confirmed was Brainstorm’s spike panel.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presumption

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fic requests on tumblr in 2013. Anon requested: Could you maybe have Brainstorm and Perceptor scissoring? No spikes at all.

“Put that away,” Perceptor said when he heard the scrape of what a quick glance down the table confirmed was Brainstorm’s spike panel, breaking a string of noises that he hadn’t bothered to turn into actual words – not, it seemed, that Brainstorm had taken much notice as he occupied himself between Perceptor’s legs as he knelt, as it took a tap on the helm to draw his attention away.

“I wasn’t going to stop,” Brainstorm whined at the request. Perceptor didn’t indulge it; regardless, Brainstorm released the hand now holding his own spike. He supposed it could be spun into a compliment, that Brainstorm had become aroused enough only servicing Perceptor’s valve with his mouth that he desired immediate stimulation of his own.

When Brainstorm chose only to lean back up, glossa out and lips wet and, unfortunately, spike still exposed, he earned himself a knee in the helm. Blunt, yes, but effective.

“What–”

“I said,” Perceptor began, calm as if he were giving out directions in his lab, which he supposed technically speaking he was, “put that away.”

The resultant confusion on Brainstorm’s face turned swiftly to petulance. With his faceplate, Brainstorm hardly made it a difficult task to discern his emotions; without it, he was positively transparent. Brainstorm’s optics flickered from Perceptor’s face, down lewdly to his valve, and back once again. “You like your valve, so I thought you’d…” he defended, finally relying on clumsy gestures upward.

Perceptor allowed a very subtle curl to his lips. “I do prefer my valve. I also prefer yours. Open it for me, and put that away.” He nodded once again to indicate Brainstorm’s spike, hanging half-pressurized and ignored between his thighs. “If you want to overload, that is.”

Brainstorm opened his mouth and then closed it again, evidently deciding not to argue. Perceptor idly wondered how often he had done just that, unseen behind his faceplate, during shared duty shifts. Yet under Perceptor’s watch, Brainstorm tucked his spike away with no small amount of reluctance. Perceptor heard no panel opening behind it, but perhaps he missed it.

He left Brainstorm kneeling like that for a moment to simply observe, as holding his spike behind his panel on request must have been particularly uncomfortable.

“Should I–” Brainstorm attempted soon enough, with another crude gesture toward Perceptor’s valve, still open and wet between his parted legs above him.

Perceptor got to his pedes and guided Brainstorm further from his, remaining on his back upon the table though now his legs hung rather confusedly from the edge. One could see, so to speak, the gears turning within his head, attempting to discern how Perceptor intended to satisfy himself.

“Don’t presume,” was all Perceptor offered during the change in position, a process in which, he noted, Brainstorm remained an eager participant.

Taking Brainstorm’s leg behind the knee, he parted them and raised it, and from there the alignment was simple: Perceptor settling between Brainstorm’s widely spread legs, valve to valve, higher, ah, there, where the edge of Brainstorm’s opening rubbed Perceptor’s most concentrated cluster of sensor nodes. The friction was excellent, and made even moreso by the slightly swollen lips framing Brainstorm’s valve – a quirk of the engineering most likely, as it was certainly not an effect of Brainstorm’s plentiful, nearly excessive lubrication, something Perceptor had noticed on his spike as well during its brief display. Either Brainstorm’s calibrations were off – entirely possible and a most common condition – or he was simply driven to extreme arousal by interfacing with the frequent object of his disaffections.

Or perhaps – as Perceptor strongly suspected when even Brainstorm’s first kiss given him had been more competition than compulsion to desire – he was aroused by interfacing with his superior.

At some point, Brainstorm had offlined his optics; Perceptor was pleased that he onlined them again as Perceptor stilled himself and addressed him directly.

“Look what a mess you’ve made of yourself for me,” Perceptor said, his tone a simple statement of fact despite the enjoyment he himself derived from the mech positively captivated below him, from fluid-stained thighs to his hips rocking in purely selfish need. “You are experiencing severe arousal. Yes,” he insisted against Brainstorm’s shaking his head. “Tell me, is that painful?”

“Yes,” Brainstorm admitted, to his credit.

“Mm, I’m sure it is.” Perceptor pressed Brainstorm’s leg further toward his chest, and readjusted his own weight. The solid, cool plating of Brainstorm’s inner thigh was a slight shock to Perceptor’s superheated valve, but a highly pleasant one. Perceptor tightened his grip on Brainstorm’s leg, and began to grind, even allowing a low moan of pleasure as he sought overload. And when Brainstorm only thrashed below him in a palpable surge of arousal, along with the sudden lack of stimulation to any of his interface components – well, there would be plenty of time for that later.


End file.
